Dan Warren

I don't know why I made this either but here it is.

This is a track I did for the Frog Fractions 2 ARG, it was meant to be an artifact from the remains of the civilization of Bug Mars. It's a song of mourning in the last days of a dying civilization. Lyrics: There was no war, there was no victory No grand defeat to make some sense of the Things that we lost, things that we gave for free Because we never understood That when it's gone, it's gone for good The sparkles kill and then they fade away The heart grows still amid the world's decay Even the atmosphere has bled away And still we never understood That when it's gone, it's gone for good

Sometimes I like to just sit down and build a generative music machine that makes pretty noises. This was one of those days, and this is the result.

Just a little instrumental thing I bashed together while learning to use Playbox

This is the instrumental track for a song I have still never recorded. I wrote the song near the end of 2020. It's about reassuring yourself that the currently horrible world events are temporary. It was a sort of cross between optimism and intentional irony, and of course 2021 turned out to suck even worse. Maybe one day I'll record it, but for now it just sort of sounds like Christmas shopping music that's been left out to decay in the sun for a few decades. Here's the lyrics: Christmastime Where'd the year go? Spent inside Living echoes An endless parade of identical moments that shuffle away, leaving no real impression at all, but Things will be better next year I know they will Things will be better next year Christmastime And I miss you Soon it won't be an issue Maybe by June we can meet in a restaurant surrounded by people and think nothing of it at all? Things will be better next year They have to be Things will be better next year

This is just a rough draft of a ridiculous thing I built from a Librivox audiobook of an old book called "The Book of the Damned", by Charles Hoy Fort. The chapters these samples were taken from were read by Matthew Shepherd.

Welp I set out to just make a nice little western thing and it ended up sounding way too much like Gorillaz. I swear it wasn't on purpose. Back to the drawing board.

Just a positive, relaxing, possibly slightly creepy message for you

Just a quick little guide for self-hypnosis and acupuncture.

I'm tired of not understanding Japanese, so I made a machine to do it for me. It's just a sampler fed with random syllables from my Pimsleur Japanese lessons, with the two voices occasionally asking each other if they understand and forlornly responding that they don't.

This is a very old track, basically a found poem taken from a vocabulary building record from the 80s. It (in my mind) tells the story of a relationship that starts off strong but gets weird and creepy, and ends with them parting with no real lessons learned.

I was messing around in bitwig with a rhythmic pattern I learned from karnatic music and I think I accidentally made prog. Lyrics: bwoooop booop peeeoww weeeener neeeener

Last week I was playing around with sampling some sounds from an old data cassette as well as an XDR toneburst. I ended up using those sampler instruments to flesh out a bit of music I'd already been working on, and the end result sounds like a discarded and poorly weathered cassette of some old video game music.

This track is me sort of exploring the idea that quantum foam and the big bang imply that the universe absolutely cannot tolerate the existence of true nothingness. There can be nothing, but not for long. Sort of encouraging, in a perverse way. Anyway it takes a long time to get started; the track began as sort of an experiment in building music out of environmental noise. Lyrics: Can you call it vacuum, the spaces between spaces where there were never things? Can you call it darkness, the absence of a light that never has been seen? Either by sheer providence or through some strange technology, nothing never lasts forever; something comes to be. At its core, true nothingness is riddled with instability, simply as a consequence of some innate geometry. So in the end the emptiness is an impossibility. Nothing never lasts forever; something comes to be.

This is just me playing with some sounds in Bitwig. The progression is fun because when it sounds like it's looping back to the beginning it's actually a step lower than it started out (hence the name). The other neat thing about this one is that the super funky electric piano bit that starts at 1:30 is just running the same chords through two different arpeggiators - it happened entirely on accident but I decided I liked it.

This is a completely ridiculous little thing that I wrote many, many, MANY years ago that just suddenly came back to my mind the other day. For some reason the thing that brought it back to me was that I remembered playing it for Jon Mooneyham and him being incredulous that I had name-dropped Clarence Clemons. Anyway, it's a very stupid song and now a bad recording of it is on Soundcloud forever. Lyrics: I don't understand a fuckin' word you're saying you just sound like a saxophone Somewhere in my mind I have got Clarence Clemons and he's not going to leave me alone Oh what a world, it's a sad sad world It's a world I always hoped I'd never live to see Woke up this morning just find that everyone had bought a vocoder except for me

This is just a little thing where I was playing with odd time signatures and trying to follow along on my Wavedrum.

This is just a snippet of music I came up with years ago, completely forgot, and then stumbled across this morning while looking for something else. I don't know that I'll ever do anything more with it, but I do think it's kinda pretty.

You are walking through the woods when you stumble across a robot church group baptizing one of their own children in a stream. Two robot children are singing a song to mark the event. Includes a field recording by Nick Friedman.

Okay it's been way too damn long since I've uploaded anything so here's this. It's just an instrumental demo for a new take on an old song of mine.